


A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

by penguinated



Series: BoRhap Boys Fairy Tale AUs [3]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Cinderella - All Media Types, Disney - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:54:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinated/pseuds/penguinated
Summary: After losing your parents, your step-family makes your life impossible. That is, until Prince Gwilym holds a ball. It’s your one chance for everything to change. Another fic originally posted to my tumblr @freddiesaysalright
Relationships: Gwilym Lee/Reader
Series: BoRhap Boys Fairy Tale AUs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813267
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, a gentleman and his wife lived happily with their daughter, Y/N. The family lived what most would call the perfect life. Mother and father madly in love, a charming and beautiful daughter with a heart of gold, and a fortune to last them all of their days. Nothing could infringe upon their happiness. Until, the gentleman became gravely ill.

The sickness struck him quickly and cruelly. Within just days, he was dead. He left everything to his wife and daughter, who bitterly mourned his passing. The lady did her best to manage the estate, but there was no place for widows in society. The banks laughed her out, other gentry shunned her independence, and she had no time to spend with her daughter. She would never have the kind of love she shared with her late husband again, but to secure her daughter’s future, she knew she would have to marry again.

Her childhood friend, Sir Frank Tarleton, owned the tavern in town. His status was below the lady’s, but he had made himself a small fortune running the tavern. He was a widower as well, with two daughters just about Y/N’s age, Miranda and Eleanor. They agreed to marry, for familiarity and mutual benefits. It was a marriage based on friendship alone.

Life returned to normal for Y/N, only her stepsisters were spoiled and unkind. Her stepfather was decent to her, treating her with gifts the same as his own daughters, but he was no replacement for the father Y/N had lost. She took comfort in her mother. The two had more time to be close and mourn together. 

Frank grew envious of his wife’s relationship with Y/N. He felt that his wife should put her husband first, and care for him before her child. He also wanted more children, but the lady confessed that she had a condition that made more children impossible. Y/N was a miracle, which was part of why she treasured her so much. 

Even so, Frank insisted. He wanted a son, an heir to take over the tavern and the estate when he died. The lady, after experiencing how hard it was for girls on their own first hand, decided to try. After all, legally, Y/N’s sons would have more claim to the estate before Frank’s sons did, and so it would not go into the wrong hands. 

The pregnancy proved to be a grave mistake. Because of the lady’s condition, she lost the child, and the miscarriage made her sick. She was bedridden for days, only to succumb to the weakness in her body, and she passed. Frank was alone to raise the girls. 

After the lady’s death, Frank’s true nature was revealed. He was cruel, hard, and hateful. He saw Y/N as a lesser daughter, and forced her to work in his tavern and become a servant in her own home. As Frank spent more money, they could afford even less help, and the staff dwindled down to only the housekeeper, Elsie, and the butler, Robert, who were married. Y/N was a lady’s maid to her stepsisters, a cook in the kitchen, and a waitress in the tavern. She was the only servant who was not paid. Frank told her that keeping her alive was her payment. 

Y/N grew to fear her stepfather. He never let her go anywhere outside the estate grounds or the tavern. His temper was explosive. It seemed he blamed Y/N for all his misfortunes, no matter what their true cause may be. 

Despite her troubles, Y/N remained hopeful and kind. She did everything she could to maintain the peace, all the while dreaming of one day escaping. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew in her heart, this was not going to be her whole life. Something was coming for her. She could feel it. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Father, please,” Gwilym groaned, setting his book down. “Not this again.” 

He had been reading - rather peacefully - when his father burst into the library and started asking him when he could meet another young lady suitable for him to court.

“I’m not getting any younger, Gwilym!” the king returned. “I’d like to see you settled before I go!”

“You’re in great health,” the prince argued. “And besides, why is it so important that I’m married before you die?”

The king hesitated before replying, which made Gwilym’s brow furrow.

“I need to know there’s someone looking after you,” the king said. “That you’ll be taken care of.”

“Father, I’m your son, not your widow,” Gwilym said, rolling his eyes. “And it isn’t a wife’s job to look after her husband.”

“What do you consider her duties to be, then?” the king challenged.

“To love me, that’s all,” Gwilym answered. “To be my partner.”

“Love, puh,” the king scoffed. “I tell you, the world is too different now. First, Prince Rami marries a village girl, and then Prince Benjamin finds himself a mermaid. If you’ve got some crazy idea because of them, then I’m telling you, boy, I won’t stand for it!”

“In fairness, the mermaid is a princess,” Gwilym said with a cheeky smirk. 

“Don’t play with me,” the king replied. “I’m serious, Gwilym.”

“I’m serious too,” Gwilym said. “If I meet the right girl - someone I love - then I’ll be happy to get married. But you must accept that she may very well be a village girl or a mermaid or a servant.”

The king huffed. “She may also be high born. Or at  _ least _ a gentleman’s daughter.”

“She could be anyone, I won’t discriminate,” Gwilym said. “But I must love her, Father. If I’m going to get married, that is my condition.” 

“But who knows how long that might take!” the king cried, exasperated. 

“What’s the rush?” Gwilym returned with a shrug. 

He kept his eyes fixed on his father, whose face was reddening with heat. The king looked very hard at the floor, as if fascinated by the dust on the wood. 

“Father?” Gwilym pressed. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m  _ not _ in great health, son,” the king admitted. “I’m afraid I don’t have much time left.”

Gwilym got to his feet and approached. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m ill,” the king said, finally meeting his son’s gaze. “It’s still early on and there is treatment, but I don’t know how much life is left for me. I’d like to see my grandchildren, and know the woman that will be my son’s companion. Then maybe, when I join your mother, I can tell her about them.”

Gwilym offered a faltering smile. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t want to worry you,” the king said. “Especially with me not even having all the information yet. But that’s what it is, and why I’m so concerned with it.”

The prince sighed. “Well, I can’t make you any promises. Love happens organically. It’s not something you can force.”

“It is something you can build,” the king rebutted. “Like your mother and I did.”

“It might embarrass you to hear this, Father, but I’d also like some passion in my marriage,” Gwilym said. 

The king’s face went beet red, and Gwilym bit back a laugh. 

“Well!” the king cried. “Times truly have changed when young men can so carelessly talk about matters of the bedchamber in broad daylight!”

Gwilym chuckled. “Look, I just said passion. If your first thought was the bedroom, then whose mind is truly in the gutter?”

The king’s frown deepened. 

“Don’t play with me, boy!” he warned again. 

“I’m sorry, Father, I won’t tease you anymore,” Gwilym promised. “But even so. Only a deep, true love will sell me on matrimony. Until then, we just have to enjoy our lives. The way they are.”

The king released a low breath, the redness slowly draining from his cheeks. 

“I want to,” he said. “But when I think about the future, I…”

“I know,” Gwilym said. “Let’s not focus too much on that. How about we go for a ride? Just you and me? For old time’s sake.” 

When Gwilym was growing up, his father used to take him riding for time away from the palace, especially if Gwilym was feeling upset or stressed. They’d saddle up their horses and just take off into the countryside. Fresh air did wonders. It seemed to clear the air inside themselves and they always had the best conversations. 

“Yes,” the king said with a smile. “Yes, I’d like that very much.” 

Gwilym called in a footman to get their horses ready.

**_***_ **

“There,” you said finally as you tied the last ribbon on your stepsister’s dress. “All done. Is there anything else you need, Miranda?” 

“No,” she replied dismissively. “You can go now. Is breakfast ready?”

“Yes,” you said. “Your father and Eleanor are already downstairs.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” she snapped. “Now it looks like I overslept!”

“But, Miranda,” you said. “You  _ did _ oversleep.”

“Well - Father doesn’t need to know that!” she argued. “Nevermind. I’m going downstairs.”

She stormed out, slamming the door behind her. You followed shortly after, closing the door softly after you. Miranda and Eleanor could slam doors all they liked, but if Frank ever heard you do it, you were certain you’d be out on the streets.

You headed downstairs, below the main floor, into the kitchen. The tea would need to be freshened up soon, and you had a kettle warming on the stove. Elsie and Robert sat at the servant’s table, nibbling at their own breakfast.

“Y/N, take a seat,” Robert offered. “Bacon’s still hot.”

You shook your head. “I can’t. I’ve got to get their tea up quickly so I have time to visit Papa today.”

“Oh, it is the anniversary, isn’t it?” Elsie recalled. “It’s been so long, it slips my mind.”

“Yes, it has been a long time,” you sighed sadly. “But I miss him every day.”

“Of course you do,” Elsie said. “Well, hurry on then, I’ll make you something fresh to eat.”

You thanked her and ran the tea upstairs. You entered the dining room and instantly felt a frigid air about the family. You began to pour the tea, knowing better than to question things.

“So, Y/N,” said Frank, the usual stiffness to his voice. “I understand you have time for meddlesome pranks.”

“I - what?” you questioned. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you understand perfectly well, don’t play dumb,” he warned. “Toying with my dear Miranda’s clock to make her almost miss her breakfast is childish at best and vindictive at worst.”

“But, I didn’t -”

“Don’t interrupt me, Y/N,” he said, cutting across you. “If you have time for stupid games, then I don’t see why you need time off this morning.”

“Frank, it’s the anniversary of my father’s death,” you reminded him. “I go and visit his grave every year, you know this.”

“Well, perhaps you should have thought of that before acting like a mischievous child,” he said.

Tears welled up in your eyes. “But I didn’t, I swear!”

He ignored this.

“Today, before you head to the tavern for your shift, you will wash all the windows, re-do the laundry, mop the floors of the entrance hall, and polish my boots,” he said. “On top of all your regular duties, this should prevent you from temptations like practical jokes.”

“You can’t,” you said softly.

“I can,” he returned. “This is my house, and I won’t tolerate any tomfoolery. You want to behave that way, then you will face the consequences.”

“It’s not fair, Miranda just overslept, I didn’t touch her clock or anything in her room!” you insisted.

Your stepfather’s head snapped toward you, eyes wide. You had never spoken back to him, but nothing was more important to you than honoring your parents. Visiting your father’s grave was something you used to do with your mother, and it made you feel close to her as well. Frank shoved his chair out from under him and got to his feet. You stepped back, frightened. 

“Don’t you dare take a tone with me, Y/N!” he barked. 

He moved toward you, his form looming. You felt like you were actually shrinking under him.

“I - I’m sorry, I just -”

“Enough!” he cried, and he shoved you.

You fell to the ground on your side, catching yourself on your hands. You could already feel a bruise forming where his hands had gripped your arm. A shiver ran through you. He stood there, tall and proud, straightening his vest.

“That was undignified,” he said shortly. “But I also won’t tolerate disrespect. You will complete all your tasks today, Y/N. And if I find it isn’t done when I return from town, you will face far worse than a shout.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you replied, shaking. 

“That’s a good girl,” he said. 

He returned to his seat, and resumed his breakfast. You watched the tension slowly release from Miranda and Eleanor’s shoulders. A warm tear slid down your cheek. On trembling legs, you got up, and made your way back to the kitchen.

Elsie saw your pale, terrified face, and she jumped up, taking you in her arms. 

“What happened, dear?” she gasped. 

You let out a sob and told her everything that just transpired, almost disbelieving yourself. Elsie and Robert held you in their embrace. Since you’d lost your mother and father, they were the closest thing to a real family you had. 

“There, there, darling,” Elsie soothed. “It’ll be alright. Robert and I will handle those chores for you. You go on out to the cemetery.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “If Frank finds out, we could all be in trouble.”

“How will he know?” she replied. “He’s always out of the house, and as long as it gets done, there shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“W-what about Miranda and Eleanor?” you sniffled. 

“They’re going to town with their father today, they’ve got some lessons to attend to,” Robert said. “No one will know except us.”

You gave them a watery smile. “Thank you so much.”

Frank and the girls left straight from breakfast. Elsie urged you to go ahead and get to the gravesite and get back as soon as you could, just in case. You agreed, and quickly fetched your cloak and basket. Packing a few things, you headed out. 

It was a short trek from the main house, but you didn’t mind the walk. In fact, you loved walking. It gave you an opportunity to sort out anything on your mind. As a young girl, you used the time to imagine yourself as anything other than what you were - a sad child with no parents and a difficult future. On your little walks, you could be a princess or a warrior or mermaid or whatever you wanted. 

Now, as an adult, your imagination had dwindled. Harsh reality took its place. The only way to escape Frank was to have something to fall back on, and since he didn’t pay you, and worked you all day, you had nothing. But after this morning, you knew something had to be done. Frank was always distant and demanding, but that kind of aggression was new. And that was something  _ you _ could not tolerate. Your arm throbbed in agreement.

You reached your father’s grave, and placed a ring of flowers against it. You lit a candle and set it beside the headstone. There was actually a towering statue there of an angel. In a way, you’d always seen your father as an angel, but he wasn’t cold and rough like stone. He was warm and gentle. You said the usual prayer for his spirit.

“Oh, Papa,” you sighed when you were finished. “I miss you so much, especially today.”

You opened your mouth to speak again, but shut it quickly at the sound of horse hooves. Fearing Frank had returned unexpectedly, you blew out the candle and stood up, pressing yourself into the angel statue. You heard voices and held your breath, straining to make out what they were saying. To your great relief, it didn’t sound like Frank. 

“Gwilym!” one man called out through a laugh. “Slow down, my boy!”

Another laugh rang through the yard - soft, friendly, and sweet. You listened as the horses slowed to a stop and the men caught their breath. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve lost your edge, Father,” the one called Gwilym panted. “We haven’t been gone very long.”

“I’m old,” the father replied. 

“You’re young at heart, though,” Gwilym returned. “Where are we?”

“Sir Frank Tarleton’s property, I believe,” the father answered. 

“He owns an estate?” Gwilym asked. “I thought he ran the tavern.”

“He does,” the father said. “He inherited the estate from his late wife. It was in the Y/L/N family for centuries before Tarleton got it.”

“What happened to the Y/L/N family?” Gwilym wondered.

“The man died, his wife remarried Tarleton,” the father said. “There was a daughter, I believe, but Tarleton cares for her now.”

You almost snorted. “Cares for” - that was rich. 

“How sad,” Gwilym said. 

Taking a chance, you peered around the statue, careful not to expose yourself too much. You saw the two men, clearly nobles from the way they were dressed, but you didn’t know who they were. The younger one - Gwilym, stood out to you. He was dashingly handsome; tall, blue eyes, soft dark hair, a strong jaw, and a gracious smile. The older one looked similar, with more gray in his hair and a longer nose. Otherwise, they might have been brothers instead of father and son.

Gwilym’s horse turned, so you leaned further out to keep looking at him. Unfortunately for you, it was a stretch too far. You lost your footing on the statue and tumbled into the grass landing on your already bruised arm with a sharp yelp.

Gwilym and his father whirled around and saw you. The former dismounted swiftly handing his father the reins, and he jogged over to you.

“Are you alright, madam?” he asked, offering you his hand.

You looked up at him in awe. He was handsome from a distance, but up close he looked unreal. Like a painting or a sculpture. He belonged in a gallery or a palace, not in a field, helping your clumsy self up.

“I - yes - sorry,” you sputtered, heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Let me help you,” he said gently. 

You took his hand and he lifted you carefully to your feet. He was surprisingly strong for his slimmer frame. You knew you shouldn’t stare, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was so...tall. 

“What’s a girl like you doing out here all alone?” he asked kindly. 

He took in your face and thought you fair, even with the dirt and soot that dotted your skin. The hood of your cloak covered your hair, but he found the color flattering on you. 

“Paying my respects,” you said, nodding toward the grave. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

Now, you looked everywhere but at his face, embarrassed. 

“Not at all,” he assured you. “We’re just passing through. It’s us who likely disturbed you.”

You shook your head. “No, sir. I was just leaving.”

His brows came together as he observed you. You were a striking girl, but the timidity concerned him. It was not a typical feminine play at being coy. You were genuinely fearful.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked. “We could escort you home.”

“Oh, no!” you cried, looking at him at last. Your gaze shot quickly back to his feet. “I couldn’t impose. And besides, I dearly love to walk.”

“It’s no imposition -”

“No, sir,” you said firmly. “Thank you, but no. I must be going now, I’ve got so much to do at home.” 

You bent down and snatched up a basket, drawing your cloak closer around you.

“Good day, sir.”

You offered a short curtsey and then turned and walked off. He watched you go until you disappeared over the hill. 

“How very odd,” he said to the king. “Do you think she recognized us?”

“I should say not, or you’d have gotten a lot more respect than a ‘sir,’” the king said. “Ignorant child.”

Gwilym mounted his horse.

“Don’t be so harsh, Father,” he said, settling into the saddle. “She’s only a servant, there’s no reason she should know us right away.”

“Let’s ride on,” the king replied. “I’ve got my energy back.” 

“Well then, you’d better keep up!” Gwilym joked. 

They took off. You heard them thunder away in the distance, and you wondered if you had just missed an opportunity to escape. You shook your head. That couldn’t be the case. Those men had no reason to help you. They knew Frank, and you had no way of knowing whether or not they were friendly. And yet...that Gwilym had the kindest eyes you had ever seen.

You went home and got started on the rest of your chores. By some miracle - mostly because you had Elsie and Robert’s help - you got everything done. Evening was drawing near, so you went up to change and prepare for a shift at the tavern. 

You were in your chemise when your door burst open. You gasped and covered yourself with your blanket, whirling around to see Frank standing in the doorway. You stepped back.

“Well, I see everything is in order,” he said. “Well done, Y/N.”

“Thank you, sir,” you replied coolly. 

He cleared his throat. “Regarding my conduct this morning….it was not gentlemanly.”

Your brow furrowed. Was he actually going to apologize?

“But I’m not sorry,” he said. 

Of course he wasn’t.

“You need to understand, Y/N, that I am the authority in this house, and I won’t stand for disrespect,” he went on. “But I will say, I admire that you bore it with some dignity.”

“I - thank you, sir,” you said again.

He walked in and stood in front of you, coming within inches of your face. His hand came to cup your cheek, and he brushed some ashes off it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. This was also new, and his touch made your stomach churn.

“Yes,” he said. “You are growing up to be a fine woman.”

Your mind went completely blank. You had no idea what he meant by that.

“I’ve just paid you a compliment, Y/N,” he said. “The polite thing to do is say thank you.”

You didn’t want to thank him. He had invaded your privacy and your personal space. It felt more like intimidation - to further squash any more thoughts of rebellion against him. He was asserting himself.

“Thank you, sir,” you repeated, but it didn’t even sound like it came from you.

“Good girl,” he said, stepping back at last. “Now, finish dressing and get to the tavern.”

He turned on his heel and swept out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. You sank onto your bed and drew in a deep breath. 

The tavern was already filling up by the time you arrived. You offered Zelda - the manager - an apology as you tied your apron on. 

“It’s been a very long day,” you told her. 

Your feet were already aching, but that was something you were used to. Your limbs and muscles always had a dull pain about them from working all day at the house, and all night at the tavern. 

“Understandable,” Zelda replied. “But jump on it, girl, we’ve been open half an hour already.”

“Yes, Zelda.”

You went up to the first table and jotted down drink orders. 

When you first began work at the tavern, the customers intimidated you. They were mostly men, who drank heavily, and were therefore loud. But you quickly realized the regulars were some of the sweetest people you knew. They came in to relax after working all day, and they sometimes even brought their wives and children. Those were your favorite days. 

“Y/N!” called one of the men, called Peter. 

“Good evening, gentlemen!” you greeted. “How are you?”

They all talked at once, so you smiled and nodded, feeling some relief. Work was a nice distraction from all of Frank’s new and strange behavior. 

You went to fetch them a pitcher of ale, but as you walked, you saw the front door open. In walked the last person you ever expected to see at the tavern. This wasn’t a place where people with his kind of money spent time. It was the man from earlier - Gwilym. 


	3. Chapter 3

No one else seemed to notice him walk in, but to you, it was as if time had stopped. He started toward a table, moving in slow motion, followed by two other men apparently in his class, and he took a seat at a corner table. You were frozen to the spot as you watched him. 

“Earth to Y/N,” Zelda snapped. “Are you going to just stand there or go greet our customers?”

“Right, sorry,” you said, shaking your head to pull yourself out of the reverie.

“And turn on the charm,” she instructed under her breath. “Those men have clearly got money.” 

You straightened yourself and headed over. You began to hear their conversation as you approached. 

“So, your father didn’t say what it is he has?” questioned the blonde one to Gwilym’s left. 

“No,” Gwilym said with a shake of his head. “Just that he’s ill. He really didn’t talk about it.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said the dark-haired one across from Gwilym. “Your father is a good man. You’re lucky you still have him to guide you.”

“I’m more than ready to take on my role,” Gwilym said. “It’s just all this marriage talk that’s got me worried. Say I do marry and start a family, what then? Will he think it’s okay to just give up?”

“Believe me, once he has grandchildren, he’ll have all the more reason to fight,” the blonde one said. “My parents can’t get enough of the twins.”

“It’s still hard to believe you’re the father of twins, Ben,” Gwilym said with a smirk. 

Gwilym’s back was to you when you reached the table. 

“Good evening,” you began shakily, but then cleared your throat. “What can I get for you, gentlemen?”

The blonde one, Ben, addressed you first. 

“A pitcher of ale is fine,” he said. “I’ve got this round, and Rami will get the next. We’re treating the birthday boy.”

He clapped Gwilym on the shoulder. 

“That’s not for another two days!” Gwilym insisted. “You’re the guests, I should treat.”

“Yes, but we’re guests to your birthday ball,” Rami replied, as Ben was already handing you some coins. 

“How exciting,” you said, trying to contain your curiosity. 

A ball? With rich out of town guests? Gwilym must really be somebody. 

“Aren’t you going to wish him a happy birthday?” Rami asked. 

You shook your head. “Sorry, but it’s bad luck to say it before the day.”

Gwilym finally looked at you. You saw his brow crease as he searched your eyes for recognition, but you quickly cut your gaze away. You didn’t want him to know you. Not truly. 

“Well, you can’t argue with superstitions,” Ben said.

“You just say that because you’re friends with pirates,” Rami teased. 

You smiled, and allowed yourself to look at Gwilym once more. He was paying no mind to his friends, and was still gazing at you. His eyes were so clear and blue. 

“I will wish you good luck,” you said sweetly. 

Gwilym felt his heart skip a beat. “I...well, thank you.”

You looked away and at his friends. “I’ll be right back with that ale.”

You turned on your heel and swept away from the table, taking deep breaths to steady yourself. Your heart was hammering against your ribcage. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” Zelda asked as you came into the back, her face drawn with concern. “You look pale, child.”

“I...I think you should take that table, Zelda,” you said. 

“Why?” she demanded. “Were they being disrespectful? Because I don’t care how rich they are, I’ll kick every one of their sorry -”

“No, nothing like that,” you cut across her with a small laugh. “They’re perfectly polite, I just am a bit intimidated.”

“Intimidated?” she questioned. 

You couldn’t really make her understand. There was something about Gwilym that made you want him to see you as elegant and refined. Not a helpless orphan and waitress. 

“Well, I’m sorry,” she said. “But as your friend, I’ve got to make you face your fears.”

“But, Zelda, I -” 

“No buts,” she cut across you, handing you a pitcher on a tray with three pints. “You’ll be just fine.”

She gave you a little push and you stumbled out of the kitchen. Zelda watched you make your way back to the table with a sigh. The truth was, she saw how lovely and charming you were, and she hoped that one of those men was your ticket out of this life. 

“Here we are,” you said cheerfully, donning the mask you usually wore, and placing the drinks down in front of each of the men. “Anything else for you gentlemen just now?”

“We’re alright, thank you,” Rami told you. 

“Perfect, just shout if you need anything,” you said quickly.

Again, you scurried away, but still felt Gwilym’s eyes on your back.

“Did she give us her name?” Ben asked. 

Gwilym didn’t answer. He was watching the door you’d disappeared behind. 

“Hello?” Ben said to his friend, exchanging a concerned look with Rami.

“Gwil!” Rami barked.

Gwilym started and looked at his friends, straightening his shirt. “Sorry. What?”

“What’s got you so hung up on her?” Ben asked, jerking his chin toward the kitchen door.

“I swear I saw that girl earlier today,” Gwilym answered. “While Father and I were out riding. She looks different, but something about her face, I just…”

“Oh, no,” Ben said grimly.

Gwilym’s brows came together. “What?”

“He’s got it,” Rami added.

“Got what?” Gwilym demanded. 

“The love stare,” Ben answered.

“I beg your pardon?” Gwilym questioned. “Love? I don’t even know her name.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve got the stare,” Ben said. “I’ve had it, Rami’s had it, and once you’ve got it, it’s the end of your life as you know it.”

Gwilym frowned. “What on Earth are you talking about?”

“The first time I saw my wife - well, the second time actually since the first time I was barely conscious - I looked at her and nothing else mattered,” Ben said. “I couldn’t stop looking at her. Tell him, Rami.”

“It’s true,” Rami agreed. “With my wife, it only took our first meeting for me to become sort of obsessed with her. All I wanted was to be close to her.”

Gwilym rolled his eyes. “You’re both being absurd. I was just trying to place her from earlier, nothing more.”

“And I was just trying to find the girl who rescued me,” Ben said. “You tell yourself whatever you want.”

A beat passed as Gwilym considered this. He did find you rather attractive earlier. Your pretty eyes - so sad, but so beautiful - shining in the sunlight. The way your cloak framed your delicate face. Sure, you were pretty, but that didn’t mean he was in love, did it?

“Do you want to see her again?” Rami asked. 

“I don’t know,” Gwilym said. “She’s probably a perfectly lovely girl, I just -”

“Invite her to the ball,” Ben said. 

“My father is planning on introducing me to dozens of ladies that night, I can’t show up with a date,” Gwilym said. 

“Then invite everyone,” Rami suggested. “The whole town. That way, she’ll turn up if she’s available, and you can be introduced to her as well.”

“I’m not sure my father would approve,” Gwilym said. 

“Listen, mate,” Ben replied. “If there’s anything Rami and I have learned, it’s that you’ve got to bend the rules a little to get what you want. And let’s say that’s not the girl of your dreams, some other girl might be. But you can’t know that if your only options are other nobility.”

“I did tell Father I wanted to give everyone a chance,” Gwilym conceded. “I think that’s a brilliant idea. The castle should not be off limits to the townspeople. Everyone will be invited to my ball.”

The three princes grinned and clinked glasses.

Meanwhile, you were busy running food and more drinks. You found yourself constantly glancing over at Gwilym and his friends, and they eventually waved you over to order another round, which you handled just as briefly as the first time. Although they were so pleasant, a large part of you wanted nothing more than to sit down and join them. 

They left after about two hours, and you watched them go, feeling heavier somehow. You sighed as the door began to close, casting one last glance Gwilym’s way. The night wore on, you continued in your work, and then closing time came, and you and Zelda began to clean up. It was well after midnight. 

You were wiping some clean mugs when Zelda approached you. She put all the earnings for the night into the safe and then she stretched backward and groaned. 

“Better take it easy soon, Y/N, or you’ll end up with a back as bad as mine,” she joked.

You half smiled. “I’m afraid Frank allows me no time for taking it easy.”

Zelda paused, looking long and hard at you. You stopped your cleaning and met her eyes.

“What?” you asked.

“Y/N, don’t you think it’s about time you got away from Frank?” she wondered earnestly.

“Of course I do, but I haven’t any money,” you replied. “Or a place to go.”

She bit her lip and looked at the ground, hesitating on what she wanted to say. You wrinkled your nose and fixed your gaze on her face. 

“Zelda, what is it?” you pressed.

She looked at you again. “You’d have those things if you got married.”

You blinked, as shocked as if she’d slapped you. 

“Married?” you questioned. 

She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, goodness knows, you’ve gathered the heart of almost every single man who comes into this place. Any of them would make a fine and loyal husband.”

Your heart sank at the mere thought. True, the men you served here were sweet and fun, but you had no real attraction to them. At least, nothing beyond a friendship. You had your heart set on falling in love, and being as passionate as your parents were. What else made a marriage worth having?

“I don’t love them,” you replied plainly. 

Zelda struggled not to roll her eyes. “Romantic as the notion is, most people are not as lucky as your parents were. Most people find a good person and settle down, and make it enough.”

“I’m not most people,” you returned. “I could never promise myself to just anybody to get out from under Frank.”

She heaved a sigh. “I’m asking you to be realistic, Y/N. It might be the only way out.”

“But that’s a horrible foundation for a marriage!” you argued. “Besides, if the whole point is for me to get my freedom, then what good would it do to go from my stepfather to a husband?”

“Y/N, think!” she cried. “Any of the men here would be much kinder to you! It’s true, you wouldn’t have complete independence, but at least you would no longer suffer this abuse!”

You paused, heart cracking at the idea. She wasn’t wrong. Your life would be fairly pleasant as the wife of a farmer or a merchant. But love…

“I can’t, Zelda,” you said levelly. “I just can’t. I’ve clung to the hope of love for too long. If I give up on it now, I...I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed each day. I can’t compromise.”

She sighed again. “At least think about it, Y/N. Please.”

You gave her a curt nod. She walked away and you watched her go, mind reeling with her suggestion. 

*******

The next day, Gwilym sat at the breakfast table with his father. As he spread some butter on a fresh piece of toast, the prince looked at the king, debating how to tell him of his idea to invite the townspeople.

“Father,” he began. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh, here we go,” the king grumbled. “What is it?”

“I’d like to invite the whole town to my birthday ball,” Gwilym said, pushing down the urge to snap at the insult. “And I mean everyone, from the gentry to the servants.”

The king shot a glare down the table at Rami and Ben, who were looking pointedly at their own plates.

“Is that so?” the king questioned. “You do realize how much more work we’ll have to do in order to accommodate that amount of guests?”

“You’re the king, surely you can make it happen,” Gwilym said. “It would mean a lot to me, Father. Please?”

He held Gwilym’s gaze, and he softened. As gruff as he was, the king lived to make his son happy. And if the prince wanted it, he was almost always granted it.

“Very well,” he sighed. “We will send out the invitations this afternoon.” 

“Thank you, Father!” Gwilym exclaimed, standing up to hug the king. “You are a most gracious monarch.”

The king squirmed away from his son’s grasp and mumbled irritably under his breath. Gwilym chuckled and looked at his friends. 

“Shall we head out?” he asked. 

“Absolutely,” they agreed. 

The three of them were going hunting today to get out of the palace while the ball was being put together. Ben clapped Gwilym on the back as they exited the palace and walked toward the stables.

“Well done, mate,” he said. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“He did agree surprisingly quickly,” Gwilym remarked.

“Well, it is your birthday,” Rami joked. “You should have whoever you want at your party. I invited the whole village to my wedding, and it was great!”

“I do want to be more involved with my people,” Gwilym agreed. “And who knows? This may be my best birthday yet!”

They laughed together as a footman brought them their horses.

*******

You spent the morning cooking with Elise before going up to get your step sisters dressed. Part of you hoped they’d soon get married. That way they could have breakfast in bed and give you some reprieve in the mornings. Your step sisters were okay enough women, and you were certain Frank was plotting some advantageous marriage for them as soon as possible. And it seemed they were also eager to be away from their father.

You walked with Eleanor down the stairs, but parted ways to go to the kitchen. You brought them fresh tea and poured it into their cups.

“Y/N, I need you to mend my coat that’s hanging in my room today,” Frank said as he took a sip.

You were on edge this morning, especially after the events of the previous day. And you were nervous about your conversation with Zelda. You felt that somehow Frank knew how badly you desired to leave now.

“Yes, sir,” you said quietly. 

“And I won’t be going into town,” he said. “I’ve got to update the books of the estate today, so I’ll be in my office all day.”

You nodded. It was always a disappointment when Frank had to stay home during the day. He seemed to find random, pointless tasks for you, lest you find yourself with time to read or eat. But, if it was to balance the books, then he likely would be cooped up in his office.

“Would you like me to bring you your lunch when it’s ready?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he said. “The girls have their music teacher coming so take theirs to the music room. Other than that, we are not to be disturbed.”

The only exceptions to the “do not disturb” rule were fires and injury. You nodded again, understanding.

After breakfast, you cleaned up and did the dishes. Then you headed to the fireplace in the parlor. It was in desperate need of cleaning, so you agreed to take it on. Elsie’s knees just wouldn’t be able to bear it. Before you began, you looked at the chair that your father used to use. When you were a little girl, and your parents hosted parties, the men gathered in this parlor after dinner for brandy and cigars. But your father always told you goodnight before you went to sleep, so you’d slip into the room, to find him in that chair every time. He’d smile, scoop you up, and put you on his knee to give you a big good night kiss. You could still feel the little scratches from his facial hair. 

With a sad smile, you got to work. 

The fireplace turned out to be a bear of a project. It had not been cleaned in years, apparently, and the soot had really built up. After hours of sweeping and scrubbing, you finally got to your feet and admired the clean brick. You were covered in ashes now, and smeared a little on your forehead when you wiped your sweat away. You decided you’d better change and rinse off before mending Frank’s coat. 

You walked out into the entrance hall with surprising timing. Just then, there was a knock at the door. You glanced around, but Robert wasn’t close by. With a shrug, you went to answer it.

The door creaked open when you turned the knob. There stood a young man in a handsome suit, with a huge bag slung over his shoulder. In it, appeared to be hundreds of matching envelopes. 

“How can I help you?” you asked politely.

“Good afternoon, madam,” the man replied, grabbing a letter and holding it out to you. “An invitation from the king.”

You gasped. “The king?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “The whole town has been invited.”

“Invited to what?” you wondered, taking the letter.

The man offered a short bow, which you returned, and then walked back to his horse. You closed the door and looked at the envelope. It was addressed only to “Residents” and then the address, so it wasn’t technically wrong for you to open it. On the other hand, Frank was particular about things like this. You had no desire to set him off again. 

In another remarkable moment, Elsie was coming with Frank’s lunch tray. She offered to take it since you’d taken on the fireplace. 

“Elsie,” you said as you approached. “This letter arrived from the palace. I’m sure Frank will want to open it.”

“Right you are, Y/N,” she agreed.

You placed the letter next to his plate and offered her a little smile. Whatever it was - if it was royal business - likely had nothing to do with you. Still, you were a little curious.

You forgot about the letter while you changed your dress and washed your face. When you came back down from your room and opened the door to Frank’s chambers, he burst out of his office so suddenly, it startled you. His eyes were crazed, a strange burning behind his irises. 

“Y/N, fetch my daughters!” he demanded. “This instant!”

You didn’t hesitate to hurry down the stairs to the music room. You opened the door without knocking.

“Y/N!” Eleanor cried, hands on her hips. “We’re in the middle of a lesson!”

“Your father says to come quick!” you urged her.

The two of them picked up their skirts and ran with you all the way back up to Frank’s office, leaving their music teacher stricken at the piano. Your heart was thumping with excitement. What could this be?

“Father?” Miranda questioned as the three of you entered the study. “What’s the matter?”

He held up the letter. 

“There is a ball at the palace tomorrow night,” he said slowly. “And we’ve received an invitation.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Eleanor and Miranda were immediately all aflutter, speaking so much and so rapidly that if you hadn’t been standing beside them, you would not have believed it was only two people making so much noise. You couldn’t keep track of who was saying what. 

“A ball?!”

“What for?”

“Who’s going to be there?”

“Is it a special invitation?”

“Will the prince be there?”

“Oh, do say the prince will be there!”

Your own mind was spinning with similar questions. But there was one at the forefront.

“Silence!” Frank interrupted harshly. “The invitation says the whole town has been invited - upon the prince’s request - to attend the ball in honor of his birthday. The king added that he hopes any and all eligible maidens will attend, as the prince is ready to marry.”

“Marry!” gasped Eleanor. 

“You mean - he’s really looking for his wife?!” added Miranda. 

“This is the moment I’ve been waiting for,” he said. “This could be the chance for you, my daughters, to prove your worth. One of you must win his heart.”

You saw your step sisters deflate at their father’s words. Your heart was moved with pity. But, there was still something you had to ask.

“May I go to the ball?” you blurted out. 

Frank’s eyes widened when he looked at you, as if realizing only just now that you were present. Clearly, he had not meant for you to hear. 

“You?” Eleanor sneered. “A servant?”

The sympathy you felt a moment ago evaporated. 

“It says any and all eligible maidens,” you reminded them. “That applies to me. And it is the king’s wishes. The king’s wishes are as good as orders, don’t you think?”

You kept your tone even and cool, fearful Frank might mistake your suggestion for impudence. But you knew better than to outright question him again. 

“Father, you can’t -” Miranda began, but Frank held up a hand to stop her. 

He smiled at you in such a sinister way it sent a chill down your spine.

“Certainly, Y/N, you may attend the ball,” he said.

You blinked, honestly shocked that you had persuaded him. He kept his hand in the air when his daughters tried to protest again.

“If you get your chores done,” he said. 

You beamed. “Oh, I will!”

“And,” he said, making you hesitate. “If you can find something suitable to wear.” 

“I will, sir,” you assured him. “Thank you so much!”

You hurried away to finish your chores for the day. Frank watched you go, a scowl forming across his lips. 

“Father, you don’t really mean she can go to the ball, do you?” asked Eleanor. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Frank spat. “Of course she isn’t going.”

“Then why did you -”

“Don’t worry about her!” he cut across Miranda harshly. “Her attendance is conditional, and don’t forget, I set the conditions.”

He grinned to himself as his daughters exchanged worried looks. 

Before you went to bed that night, you went to your mother’s old room. Frank had left it untouched since her death. Her wardrobe was large and varied, so you knew you would be able to find something in there to wear to the ball. You scanned through the gowns, trying to decide on a color. A soft pink caught your eye, so you reached for it. You pulled it free from the rack and held it up, examining for any flaws. Technically speaking, there were none. It was just out of date.

“So much for that idea,” you sighed.

You started to hang it up again, but stopped. You could sew. You altered dresses for your step sisters all the time. Surely you could make some adjustments to this gown and look good enough for the ball. You looked over it once more, noting to yourself all that you could reasonably do within the next 24 hours. You bit your lip. You would need more time than that.

The clock in the hall chimed. You would have to get up in a few hours to do your daily chores. A rash idea came to you - stay up through the night and fix the dress, do your chores quickly, and get a short nap before going to the ball. You could miss dinner if necessary. Through a yawn, you nodded. 

Taking the dress to your room, you started in for the night. 

***

Gwilym awoke the morning of the ball feeling light and excited. He had interacted with a few people from the town before, but nothing to this degree. He wanted to truly get to know his people, and be a better leader to them. His father was right about things changing - Gwilym wanted to be more of a servant to his people than a sovereign. 

He went down to breakfast, joining his father and his friends. The younger men were reading letters from home, while the king was signing some documents. 

“Good morning,” Gwiylm greeted cheerfully as he took his seat. 

The butler placed a plate in front of him while a footman loaded it with food. 

“You’re awfully chipper,” the king said. “I hope that means you’re ready for your ball.”

“I am,” Gwilym assured him. “This is the most exciting birthday I’ve ever had.”

Suddenly, Rami choked on the bite of food he was eating. Gwilym reached over and clapped him on the back, while Rami cleared his throat and took a sip of tea. Through watery eyes, he offered an apologetic glance around the table. 

“Good news from your wife?” Ben wondered. “Or is it…”

Rami shook his head. “No, it’s good. She...she’s still pregnant.”

“Alright!” Ben cried excitedly. 

“That’s fantastic!” Gwilym agreed. 

Both of them knew that Rami and his wife had been struggling to keep a pregnancy. It concerned them both so much, they had a doctor examine them for any problems. The queen required a small surgical procedure, after which there were supposed to be no problems. Rami even hesitated coming to Gwilym’s party in case they got bad news again, but his wife insisted he go. Now, he sniffled as he looked at the letter.

“She made it past three months,” he explained. “The doctor said that’s a sign the baby should make it.”

“That’s wonderful, Ram,” Ben said. “Really, being a dad is the best, you’re gonna love it!”

“I hope it’s a strapping young boy,” the king interjected. “Should remind your people that you’re a king now.”

Rami chuckled. “They can keep calling me Prince Rami, I don’t mind. And as for the baby...boy or girl, as long as they’re happy and healthy I couldn’t care less.”

Gwilym looked at the king, who seemed to be softening. Then the latter met his own son’s gaze.

“You see, Gwil?” the king asked. “The joys of marriage?”

“I do,” Gwilym replied. “But part of that joy is because Rami loves his wife so much.”

“You really aren’t going to let this love thing go, are you?” the king asked, defeated.

Gwilym shook his head. “Not a chance.” He looked at his friend. “Congratulations, Rami. That’s great news.”

“Thanks, Gwil,” he replied.

“Yes, all health and good fortune to your wife,” the king added. 

“Thank you,” Rami answered. 

They continued breakfast, and Ben told Rami all the great parts of fatherhood that he had to look forward to. And for the first time, Gwilym did feel a pang of jealousy at the happiness of his friends. He seemed resistant to his father, but all he wanted was a partner like Ben and Rami had found for themselves. He hoped beyond reason that whoever was meant for him would appear tonight. And then he could say to his father and everyone else - “At last, I’ve found her!”

***

By some miracle, you had finished your dress before breakfast. You stood up through a yawn and went to help Elsie get breakfast ready. You’d probably kick yourself later, but it was worth it. The dress was beautiful, and looked like the style you’d need for the ball. 

A pleasant surprise came when Frank told you he and the girls would be going to town today to shop for new gowns for them to wear. You nodded, and assured him everything would be done by the time they returned. Once they were gone, Elsie came over to you. 

“Y/N, my dear, go up to bed,” she said. “Robert and I can handle the chores.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, yawning again. “I can help, I really don’t mind.”

“We’re sure,” she said. “Go on and get some sleep. Tonight could be the most magical night of your life. Don’t spoil it by being tired.”

You agreed and shuffled back to the servant’s quarters. You crawled into your bed and shut your heavy eyelids, dreaming of the joys the ball would bring. You dreamt of music, dancing, your gown, and the face of Gwilym. Perhaps he would be there, and he could see you at your best. 

Your eyes snapped open. Gwilym was having a ball according to his friends. There were people coming from all over. Could it be that he was the prince, and was inviting the townspeople to his birthday? How had you not put it together before? Gwilym was the prince!

Your heart sank. If that was the case, you had to give up any hope of him. A prince could not be with a servant. Even if by birth you were a gentleman’s daughter, you no longer held that place. Frank had robbed you of it. Gwilym was out of your reach. 

You fell asleep despite your heart breaking at the thought of not being enough. You were just too tired. You slept just a couple hours before Elsie came to wake you. You would need some time to appear fresh when Frank got home. 

The girls demanded your help in getting ready, and you obliged. They ordered you around to pick up their sashes and necklaces and ear bobs and petticoats - just to find the perfect look for the evening. You even helped them put on some rouge and style their hair. They looked beautiful. But, you knew what they were like on the inside. You wondered if Gwilym would have the chance to meet them. And if he did, would he see their true nature?

The ball was set to begin at eight o’clock. Your step sisters were ready by seven, so they had time to have dinner before leaving. While they ate, you went up to get ready. Elsie helped you into your dress, but you did your own hair. You pinned it back, away from your face, the way your mother always liked it. You admired yourself in the mirror a moment. A jolt of nerves went through you. You still didn’t look like your step sisters. How would you compare to all the other fine ladies you were sure were attending tonight?

You shook your head. You couldn’t think about that. You couldn’t think about Gwilym. You were just going to go and have a good time. Take a well-earned break. And if you met someone there, then very well, but if not, you promised yourself you wouldn’t be too disappointed. 

***

Gwilym stood still while his valet finished with his clothes. There was still about an hour before the ball would start, and he would be meeting all the noble women his father invited. And yet, your face swam into view in his mind. He had barely stopped thinking about you since seeing you that day at the cemetery, and then again at the tavern. He still felt flush each time he recalled you wishing him good luck. Well, he certainly needed it tonight. Especially if you turned up.

***

At half past seven, the carriage was pulled to the front to take you all to the palace. You came down and couldn’t help but smile. Frank looked you over and scowled. 

“What is this?” he demanded. 

You faltered, coming to a stop about a yard away from him. Something in his face frightened you. 

“It was my mother’s,” you said, turning to show him. “I’ve updated it to match the current style, but -”

“Stop!” he cut across you. “There are very few things that are left of your mother’s, and you chose to take one - without permission - and ruin it?!”

“I haven’t ruined it, I just -”

“You stupid, selfish girl!” he shouted, crossing the front hall in just three strides. He was so close to your face, you had to take a step back. “You really think I’d let you go to the ball now? When you have defaced the property of my dearly departed wife?!”

“I didn’t know -”

“Silence!” he snapped. “I will not allow you to defend this behavior. Take off the gown at once.”

You stepped back again, but he followed. 

“I don’t have anything else,” you said meekly. 

He snarled, reached out his hand, and grabbed a handful of the bodice, right at the chest. He yanked down hard, pulling you so much that you stumbled. You heard a long  _ riiiiip _ as the dress came apart at the seams. The front was completely torn away, revealing your corset underneath. You gasped and moved to cover yourself, but his next move came for your sleeve. He jerked it away from your arm and tossed it to the floor, along with the piece from the bodice. He repeated with the other sleeve. He took the sash next and wrenched it away. 

You felt hot tears of humiliation and shame run down your cheeks. You kept your arms in front of you and sank to the floor. 

“Stop it,” you croaked out. “Please.”

He raised his hand and you shrunk away, fearing he might truly strike you. 

“Father,” Miranda said. “We’re going to be late.”

Frank slowly lowered his hand to his side. He glowered at you. 

“Clean up this mess,” he ordered. “And never again presume to have a claim on things that belonged to my wife.”

Your lips trembled as he swept away. The girls followed him out. You kept your eyes fixed on the floor questioning what had just happened to you. It didn’t seem real. But the pieces of the dress sat on the floor just feet away from you, clear as crystal. When you heard the door close, you buried your face in your hands and let out a sob. 

***

Gwilym waited to be announced. The king went first, followed by Rami, since he was king of the neighboring country. Ben was announced next, since he was a visitor and prince. And then Gwilym. As he stepped out into the ballroom, he scanned the crowd, hoping to spot you. All he saw so far was glittering jewels and satin gowns. He sighed before making his way forward to begin introductions. 

He had asked Ben and Rami to be on the lookout for you as well. When the first half hour was over, he took a break and went to his friends. 

“Any sign of her?” he asked. 

Rami shook his head. “I haven’t seen her.”

“Me neither,” Ben said. “Sorry, mate.”

Gwilym sighed. “She must not be coming.”

“There’s still some carriages outside,” Ben said encouragingly. “She could be on any one of them.”

“Yeah, don’t give up just yet,” Rami said. “You’ve got all night.”

Gwilym nodded. He knew he mustn’t be over anxious, but couldn’t help feeling sore. Where were you? What could have kept you from this?

***

You escaped the house and fled to the garden. That was where your mother always took you for comfort. Your father loved to garden, and you always remembered him in this place. In truth, it was a place that was cherished by both your parents, and you needed to feel close to them now. You flopped down onto one of the benches and cried some more.

“It’s no use,” you sobbed. “God, it’s hopeless.”

You brought your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them. Your tears splashed into the fabric of your ruined dress. 

“Now, my dear,” said a soft voice to your left.

You whipped your head up and faced the source. There in the garden stood a plump woman in a white cloak. Her silver hair hung around her face in delicate curls. She had a metallic glow around her as well that drew you in. In her right hand, she held a staff with a sapphire the size of a fist at the top.

Fear and amazement kept you frozen where you sat. She didn’t appear to be a threat, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t. And yet, you felt like you knew her somehow.

“Wh-who are you?” you wondered. “How did you get in here?”

“With magic, my dear,” she said, beaming. “As for my identity - I’m your fairy godmother.”

“My…” your brow furrowed. “My what?”

“Your fairy godmother,” she repeated kindly. “And I understand you are in desperate need of some help.”


	5. Chapter 5

“How did I get a fairy godmother?” you wondered. “I didn’t think I had anyone…”

You trailed off, hurt at the idea. True, you had Elsie and Robert, but they couldn’t stand up to Frank. Zelda was in the same boat. And you certainly didn’t have allies in your step sisters. Without your parents, you felt abandoned to Frank’s mercy - or lack thereof. 

“Honey, you have angels watching over you,” she said gently. 

Your brow furrowed. “You mean - my father and mother?”

She nodded. “Of course. They’ve seen what you’re going through, and they sent me to get you to that ball tonight.”

You started to smile, but it faded. You heaved a sigh. 

“What’s the point?” you returned. “What could someone like Gwilym - a prince - ever see in a country girl like me?”

“Plenty, Y/N,” she said. “You’re beautiful, inside and out. Don’t you know that?”

You looked at the ground and shook your head. “No, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m tired...and frightened.”

Fresh tears spilled over. She knelt in front of you and wiped your cheeks with her thumb. Her touch was soft and warm. 

“No more tears, my dear,” she said. “It’s all going to change.”

“How?” you asked. “How am I going to get to the ball? What will I wear? What would I even do once I got there?”

She smirked. “What do you think I’m here for, decoration? Now, grab one of those pumpkins for me.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “A pumpkin?”

“Trust me,” she said with a wink.

You didn’t know why, but you felt like you should obey. It seemed crazy that you should have a fairy godmother, but she did say your parents had sent her. Maybe this was the chance you were hoping for.

You picked up the pumpkin and lugged it over to her. She instructed you to set it down several feet away, and then told you to stand behind her. You did so. 

“Now, just watch,” she said. “Just a wave of the wand and the magic words - Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo!”

She slammed her staff on the ground, and what looked like silver glitter emerged from the place of contact. It floated over to the pumpkin and surrounded it. You watched, amazed, as the pumpkin expanded. Larger and larger it grew, and it sprouted four wheels. To your awe, the pumpkin became a glittering golden carriage. You could see the plush red velvet seating inside. 

“Oh!” you gasped. “It’s wonderful!”

“You see the power of a bit of magic?” she replied.

You nodded, still gaping at the carriage. 

“Now, we need horses to pull it,” she said, tapping her chin with her forefinger. “I know! Mice!”

“Mice?” you questioned. “I thought you said horses.”

“I can’t get horses from nothing,” she said. 

She hit the ground with her staff again, and four white mice came scuttling out from the pumpkin patch. She repeated the action, this time with the magic words - Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo! - and the mice were surrounded with the same silver speckles as the pumpkin. They contorted as they floated up in the air. Then with a soft  _ pop _ they were four magnificent white horses, already harnessed to the carriage. 

“How did you -” you began, but cut yourself off. “Magic, of course.”

“That’s right, dear,” she chirped. “Now, you’d better hurry, or you won’t have much time.”

“Wait, what about -”

“You can thank me later,” she teased, touching your nose with her forefinger. “But you’ve got to go meet the prince.”

You smiled. “Fairy godmother, I do appreciate all this, but -”

“Oh!” she cried, looking you up and down. “Well, you can’t go to a ball in a torn gown!”

You sighed with amusement and shook your head. “No, I’m afraid I can’t.”

“I knew I was forgetting something,” she said. “Give me a twirl, I can’t do it all by myself.”

Your brow furrowed, but you obeyed. She had proven her abilities thus far. You started off slowly, but then you felt warmth surrounding you as the magic swirled about the dress. It climbed up the fabric, leaving behind a gown that was entirely different. It was a glittering silver - much like the magic that created it. The hoop skirt was wide and dramatic - but elegant. Matching gloves appeared on your hands, as well as a delicate diamond necklace. Your hair folded itself into a neat bun atop your head. And on your feet, glass slippers replaced your boots. 

You beamed as you looked at yourself. You looked like a real princess - and you certainly felt like one. You did another twirl, this time out of joy. 

“Fairy godmother, it’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace her. 

She chuckled softly as she patted your back. Then she pulled away and looked seriously at you.

“Y/N, this magic is very powerful, but there are limits,” she said. “It will only stay in place until midnight, and then will disappear. Everything will be as it was before.”

“Midnight, really?” you gasped, excited. “That’s more than I could have hoped for!”

She cupped your cheek. “You are a gracious young woman, my dear.”

“All if this is more than I could even dream,” you confessed. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” she replied. “You deserve it. Now, hurry up! You’ve got to get to that ball!”

You grinned at her and rushed to get into your carriage. Then you were off.

*******

Gwilym was getting exhausted. He had danced with almost all the women his father had arranged to come, but no one had really sparked his interest. In truth, none of the girls were really appealing to him. He was nearly ready to give up on the evening. 

He took a break from dancing to get himself a drink, and he was talking to Ben a moment before he looked up at the entrance. There, at the top of the stairs, stood the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Her dress shimmered brighter than stars, and her face was one that struck him with familiarity, though he couldn’t place it. She seemed a little unsure of herself as she looked around. He handed Ben his drink and walked right over to her. 

You met Gwilym’s eyes just as he approached you. You smiled a wide, warm smile, and you didn’t know it then, but in that moment, he became yours forever. 

“Hello,” he said gently. 

You bowed your head and offered a curtsey. “How do you do, your highness?”

He took your chin in his thumb and forefinger and nudged you to look at him. You met his gaze.

“My evening just improved tremendously,” he said. “Dance with me?”

“I’d be delighted,” you replied. 

Grinning at each other, he led you out onto the floor. You could feel the whole ballroom’s eyes on you, which made you flushed, but you kept your focus on Gwilym. That wasn’t difficult. 

A lyrical waltz began, and Gwilym took you into his arms. He led you smoothly and gracefully. You were flying more than dancing. Mostly because your head felt like it was far above the ceiling - in the clouds. 

“You seem familiar,” he remarked. “Have we met before?”

You shook your head. That girl he met before - the orphan, the servant - seemed like a different person entirely. 

“I’d have remembered you,” you said. 

“I still feel as if…” he trailed off. 

You shot him a patiently questioning look. He smiled. 

“As if I know you somehow,” he admitted. 

“Maybe it’s crazy,” you said. “But I feel exactly the same way.”

You both laughed together and continued to spin around the floor. You had the rapt attention of everyone at the ball.

“Everyone’s staring at us,” you noticed.

“Are they?” Gwilym returned. “I feel like we’re the only ones in the room - in the whole world for that matter.”

You giggled. 

You took no notice of your stepfather and step sisters gawking at you. They didn’t recognize you, but their jealousy was shared by every woman in attendance. 

“Father, who is that girl?” Miranda wondered.

Frank focused on you, but it never occurred to him that his stepdaughter could look so regal. Much less have made it to the palace after his careful work. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I’ve never seen her before.”

“The prince seems to like her,” Eleanor added. 

He frowned. 

Gwilym liked the way you looked while you blushed, but he could feel your discomfort with the amount of people staring. 

“Are you embarrassed?” he asked. 

“A little,” you told him. 

“Not to worry,” he assured you. 

He looked away from you for the first time, and locked eyes with Ben. They shared a meaningful look, and the other prince nodded, grabbed a girl, and made his way out to the floor. Rami followed suit, and soon, there was a crowd like there had been before your arrival. Frank chose a partner as well - the wife of a friend - and decided to try and get a closer look at the mysterious woman who had so captured the prince. 

You glanced over Gwilym’s shoulder and noticed Frank. A biting fear went through you and you came to an abrupt halt. Gwilym looked at you, concerned. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you lied, tearing your eyes away from your stepfather. “I just - I’m feeling a bit dizzy from all the spinning. Could we get some fresh air?”

“Anything you want,” he agreed. 

He offered his arm. You took it, hands shaking a little, and let him lead you into the garden. 

The palace garden was magnificent. Much grander than the little one you had wept in earlier at the estate. Gwilym walked you over to the fountain, and you sat on a bench together. The sound of the music faded, as did your fear. 

“I must say,” Gwilym began. “I didn’t expect the night to go like this.”

“Like how?” you questioned. 

“It’s a bit silly,” he said. “My father is eager for me to marry, so he’s been holding balls and all sorts of occasions in the hopes that I meet someone.”

“I see,” you said. “And you’re opposed?”

“Not to marriage,” he said. “But I do want to be in love with a person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

“What sort of things might make you fall in love?” you teased. “Beauty?”

“Certainly,” he chuckled. “She must also be kind.”

“Of course,” you agreed. “And perhaps a bit mysterious?”

He nodded. “Naturally. But with a good head on her shoulders. A sensible girl.”

You smiled. “And your devoted servant, no doubt.”

He frowned at that, and your heart skipped a bit, afraid you’d offended him. But he looked at you with such a soft expression, it melted you. 

“I’ve got servants,” he said. “I want a partner. Someone I can really talk to. And share my heart with. I know it hardly makes any sense, but…”

“It makes sense to me,” you assured him. “That sounds like the marriage my parents had. Equals in mind and heart.”

“Yes, exactly!” he agreed. “And I’ve always felt that when I found her, I’d know.”

He looked pointedly at you. You smiled again. Your cheeks were already aching with all the smiling you were doing. 

“I’ve felt the same,” you said. 

He sighed and took your hand. He brought it to his lips and lightly kissed your gloved knuckles. You blushed impossibly deeper. 

“You are truly wonderful,” he said earnestly. “Almost too wonderful to be true.” He looked seriously at you. “You aren’t playing a joke are you?”

“Do you really think I could joke that way?” you returned. 

He smiled and shook his head. He sat closer to cup your cheek in his warm hand. 

“No,” he said, looking deeply into your eyes. “I don’t think you’re capable of even the smallest cruelty. I see in you a gentleness beyond compare.”

You could hardly breathe. 

“I feel your touch,” you said. “And yet, I keep feeling this must be a dream. But even my dreams could not make a night this lovely.” 

“You are the loveliest part of it,” he said. 

“You mustn't flatter me so much, your highness,” you said. “If my head gets any lighter, I fear it will float away!”

“Right along with mine, I’m sure,” he chuckled. “And please, call me Gwilym.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” you replied. “I know my place.”

“Your place is in my arms,” he insisted. “Shall we dance again?”

“If we are going to lose our heads, we might as well be dancing,” you joked. 

“We’ll dance our way to the heavens,” he added. “And may we never come down to Earth again.”

“Never,” you agreed dreamily. 

He led you back onto the dance floor inside. The pace picked up and the orchestra was playing a quickstep. Even with the new tempo, you never lost your footing with Gwilym. You also couldn’t stop laughing. It was the most you’d laughed in all your life. 

When another slow waltz came, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned, dreading that it might be Frank, but almost fell over when you saw who it was. The king himself. 

“May I cut in?” he asked. 

Gwilym nodded. “Sure, if it’s alright with the lady.”

“I suppose I’d be very ungrateful to turn away an offer from the host,” you said. 

“Come,” the king said, taking your waist. 

You shot Gwilym one last smile before being swept away. 

“My son seems quite smitten with you,” he said. “He hasn’t danced with anyone else since you arrived.”

“I consider myself lucky to have his attention, your majesty,” you said. 

“I do hope he is behaving himself,” he said, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“He’s a perfect gentleman, I assure you,” you said with a grin. “Perhaps a family trait?”

The king’s face reddened and you stifled a laugh. This was clearly a proud man and would not appreciate being teased. 

“I should hope so,” he said. “Now tell me, where are you from?”

“Not far,” you answered vaguely. “Just beyond town in the country.”

“And who are your parents?” he wondered. “You certainly look the part of nobility, but I can’t say I recognize you from anywhere.”

“Well, I…” you trailed off. You couldn’t tell him you were Frank’s stepdaughter or he might return you to him. 

“Is your family here?” he pressed. “If you’ve gathered my son’s heart, I’d like to meet them.”

“Well, the thing is…” you faded away again, slowing to a stop in the dance. You looked at the king. “I’m sorry, I need to go.”

You gathered your skirts and made a break for the door. Gwilym saw you running, and marched over to his father, who appeared completely stricken.

“What did you say to her?” the prince demanded. 

“I asked about her family, that’s all!” the king answered indignantly. “What a high strung girl! I don’t think -”

“No,” Gwilym cut across. “I won’t hear a word against her, Father.”

With that, he took off after you. The king’s mouth fell open. 

“My word these children are dramatic!”

You caught your breath on the balcony that faced the main road. Just as you came to a stop, you felt a hand brush your arm. You flinched away, whirling around to see only Gwilym. You relaxed.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “I apologize if my father offended you, but -”

“No, no, he didn’t,” you said. “He just...never mind.”

“Tell me,” Gwilym insisted, putting his hands gently on each of your arms. “What did he say?”

“He asked about my family,” you admitted. “It’s a long story, and I’m afraid the king would never approve of someone like me dancing with his son.”

“What do you mean ‘someone like you’?” he asked. 

Suddenly, his brow furrowed as he looked at your arm. You quickly realized he had noticed the evidence of Frank’s breakfast outburst the other day. You shrunk back. 

“What happened there?” he wondered. 

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” you told him, adjusting your sleeve to cover the purple bruise. 

“Are you unsafe?” he pressed. “I can -”

“Please!” you cried. “Don’t ask me anymore.”

You couldn’t imagine what Frank would do if you told the royal family about his behavior. Would he make good on his threats and put you out on the street? Or would it be worse?

“I’m sorry,” Gwilym said gently. 

He opened his arms and you sank into them. You nuzzled into his chest, and he rested his cheek atop your head. 

“But please let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he said. “Being the prince does have its perks.”

You smiled at that. 

“You’re already doing everything,” you said. “Just by holding me like this. Oh, this really has been the most marvelous night.”

“I don’t ever want it to end,” he agreed. 

“Me neither,” you said. 

“Then we won’t let it,” he said. “Stay here with me forever.”

“Gwilym…” you sighed. 

His lips met yours before another word could be spoken. Your eyes fell closed to the contact. Everything about it was tender and soft, adoring and sweet. And in that moment, though he didn’t know it, you became his forever. 

_ DONG….DONG….DONG! _

The clocktower chimed. You opened your eyes and looked up. Both hands of the clock were on twelve. It was midnight. The evening had gotten almost entirely away from you. 

“Oh, no!” you gasped. “Midnight, already?”

“Is that a problem?” Gwilym asked, a bit sore that such a wonderful kiss was cut short. 

“I have to go!” you cried. “I’m so sorry!”

You ran from him, flying down the staircase. 

“Wait!” Gwilym called, following you after recovering from his momentary shock. “Wait, I don’t even know your name! How will I find you?!”

You paid him no mind. As you hurried down the steps, one of your shoes slipped off. You had no time to stop and get it. You continued your escape, just barely making it into your carriage. You clamored in and slammed the door. The horses took off into the darkness. 

Gwilym watched, pained, as you disappeared. He knelt down and picked up the shoe you’d left behind. He was oddly charmed by the fact it was glass. His chest felt like it was open and exposed, a deep wound bleeding from where he already missed you. 

A footman approached, alerted by the commotion. 

“Is everything alright, Prince Gwilym?” he asked. 

“Fetch me my horse,” Gwilym ordered. “I’m going after her.”

The footman nodded and raced off to obey. 

Meanwhile, you were struggling in your carriage. It was shrinking back down into a pumpkin, so while it was moving, you had to kick open the door and tuck and roll out onto the path. You hit the ground hard. Tumbling away, you watched as the magic faded all around you. The carriage was gone, the horses were once again little mice, and your dress was the tattered mess Frank made of you earlier. Only one thing remained. The other slipper. You took it off your foot and held it to your chest. A few tears slid down your cheeks. 

“I’ll dream of this night the rest of my life,” you sobbed. “Thank you so much.”

The magic was over. You told yourself that this was enough. Your life was going to return to the way it was - you, a servant and Gwilym, a prince. To hope for anything else felt like more than you really deserved. But you had this night to remember. The one night where you were a princess. 

You heard the pounding of horse’s hooves coming up the road so you ducked into the trees to hide yourself. Through the branches, you watched Gwilym’s familiar form ride on into the woods. He was really coming after you!

_ No _ , you told yourself.  _ He’s going after the girl he thought you were _ . 

You sighed, shedding a few more tears. Your lips still felt warm from his kiss, your cheek still rosy from the touch of his hand. But that was all you would ever have. He couldn’t love the girl you really were. You loved him, though. And you were certain you always would.

You started the rest of the way home. You would need to hurry to change and be ready for when Frank and the girls came in. 


	6. Chapter 6

Frank and his daughters came home about an hour after you did. You were already back in your servant clothes and waiting by the door. You took their cloaks and bags, and began hanging them on the rack in the main hall. 

“How was your night?” you asked politely. 

“It was a splendid evening, Y/N,” Frank answered. “More than you could ever hope for.”

“I’m sure it was,” you returned, holding back a smirk. If only he knew. 

“I’m relieved to see you have not stolen anything else from my wife’s closet,” he sneered.

You shook your head. “No, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve been thoroughly educated.”

“Very good,” he said, seeming displeased that he couldn’t goad you. 

But nothing could spoil this night. It was perfect. 

“Is there anything you need before going to bed?” you asked. 

“I’m fine, but you’ll of course help the girls get changed,” he said. 

You nodded again. “Absolutely.”

He watched you suspiciously as you followed your step sisters up the stairs. You were calm. Too calm. And you were humming, which you didn’t normally do. Plus the tune was something he had heard somewhere - but no event would have had you in attendance. His frown deepened. Something was up.

*******

Gwilym returned to the palace two hours later, empty handed and broken-hearted. Rami and Ben were waiting on the steps for him, but as he walked up, he only shook his head. They sighed, disappointed for their friend. Thankfully, the remaining guests had all gone home. 

“Sorry, mate,” Ben said. 

“There was no sign of her?” Rami asked. 

“No,” Gwilym said. “Even the carriage tracks just seemed to disappear. It was like she just vanished.”

“So, all we’ve got to go on is the shoe?” Ben wondered, holding it up. 

Gwilym had only entrusted his best friends with it, and they had kept it from his father. 

“It’s made of glass,” Gwilym said. “Which means it only fits her.”

“So what are we gonna do?” Rami asked. “Try the shoe on every woman in the kingdom?”

“Only the single women,” Gwilym said, as if it were obvious.

Rami and Ben shared a surprised look. 

“I hope you’re joking,” Ben said. 

“Far from it,” Gwilym replied. “I’m going to find that girl, and I’m going to marry her.”

Rami sighed. “Very well, then. But let’s start in the morning.”

“Thank you both,” Gwilym said, relieved. They had every reason to leave now. Both had duties at home, and had done what was socially expected. With the ball over, there was no obligation to stay. “Really.”

“Of course we’re gonna help you,” Ben said. “But I’m with Rami. Starting tomorrow.”

“You guys go on up, I’ll be right behind you,” Gwilym insisted. 

His friends shrugged, but did as he requested and went inside. Gwilym remained, holding that glass piece of you carefully in the crook of his arm. He looked out into the night sky, hoping somehow you could feel his desperation. 

“I am coming for you, my darling,” he said quietly. 

*******

You yawned as the sun peered into your room through your curtains. You were feeling unusually light this morning. Like you were still floating just above the ballroom floor. With a contented sigh, you stretched and forced yourself out of bed. Frank and the girls would be needing their breakfast soon, but you knew you had a little extra time today. They’d certainly have a bit of a lie in after the late night. 

You threw your dress and apron on. You did a spin around your room, giggling as you imagined Gwilym there with you. Then you had to slow to a stop. It was a fantasy, nothing more. One glorious night. But now it was time to return to reality and your true life. Still, you could cling to the dream for one morning.

Humming to yourself, you put the pot on to boil and began prepping plates for breakfast. You set a pan atop the stove to start some sausages when you heard the jingle of a bell. You looked at the wall. It was coming from Eleanor’s room, so you guessed she was up. You asked Elsie to start the food and went back upstairs to get your step sister dressed. When you reached the landing, you saw Frank emerging from his room, already dressed. 

“Good morning,” you said kindly. 

“Y/N, what  _ did _ you get up to last night?” he asked. 

“Why, nothing, sir,” you said. “I cleaned up, as you instructed, changed clothes, and got a head start on some other chores. When those were done, I occupied myself by reading.”

He seemed skeptical. “I see. I hope you weren’t reading anything too fanciful. You mustn’t fill your mind with...unrealistic dreams and fantasies.”

Your brow furrowed with confusion. What was he implying?

“No, sir,” you said. “I try to keep everything practical.”

“Good,” he said. “Now get to work.”

You nodded, a bit perplexed, but continued into Eleanor’s room.

*******

In the morning, Gwilym was the first up. He hardly slept at all. He wrote a decree for his father to send out, that he and Ben and Rami would be making the rounds through town and the countryside to find the owner of the missing shoe. They would begin today, and search until the prince had found his lost love.

To his shock, the king agreed to this. He read over it at the breakfast table, nodding at each point. The ladies were to try on the shoe and if it fit, it must be the girl who Gwilym met at the ball.

“Very well,” he said. “You’ll begin today?”

“Yes,” Gwilym said. “I want to find her as soon as possible.”

“Alright, son,” the king replied. He looked at the prince and offered a sincere smile. “And best of luck.”

Gwilym beamed. “Thank you, Father!”

And so, they began their search within the palace, where the out of town noble guests were staying. Gwilym had his doubts about those girls because he met them before you even came through the door. But he knew everyone deserved a fair chance. When the shoe fit none of those women, they made their way into town, with a few guards along for protection. 

*******

Frank received a letter from the palace early in the morning. He looked it over and you saw a flash of...something cross his face. You couldn’t place the emotion though. It seemed almost like a glimmer of hope. His eyes glanced over at you before quickly turning to his daughters. 

“Girls, get yourselves looking nice,” he said. “We’ll be having visitors from the palace this afternoon.”

“The palace?” you questioned, without meaning to, but you could hardly help yourself. 

“Yes, but that isn’t any of your business, Y/N,” he snapped. “Get my daughters ready and then proceed with your chores as usual. You are not to make your presence known while the visitors are here.”

You nodded apologetically. As you made your way back to the kitchen, you wondered if the visitors Frank referred to could be Gwilym and his father. Was he looking for you? Something in your heart told you he was, but you hardly even dared to hope. Such a thing was the stuff of dreams. And yet, the ball seemed like a dream too, but it was as real as the tea kettle you carried. You began devising a plan. 

As the day wore on, you completed your chores quickly. You wanted to prepare yourself as well. Your gut was telling you Gwilym was on his way to take you away from here. And you had all the proof you needed in that slipper that was hidden beneath your bed. So when you finished sweeping the entrance hall, you ran up to your room to get it. Only, when you opened your door, you came to an abrupt stop. Frank was sitting on your bed, holding the slipper by the heel. One wrong move of his fingers and it would fall, risking a break. 

“Well, well, well,” he said darkly. “I had a feeling you had made your way to the ball. You’ve been far too dreamy to have had as dull a night as you claim.”

Your heart rate quickened. 

“That’s mine,” you said, feeling childish as the words left your mouth. “It was given to me.”

Frank laughed humorlessly. “Oh, likely story. I suppose this is another one of my wife’s things you stole.”

“You cannot stop me from this,” you said, ignoring the accusation. “The prince loves me.”

“Against his better judgement, I believe that’s true,” he admitted.

You blinked, surprised at your step father’s nonchalance about this. Did that mean he would accept it? No. There had to be something else he was getting at. 

“As it is, though,” he said. “You’re spoken for.”

You frowned as your stomach dropped. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked. 

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he said, getting to his feet and straightening his jacket with his free hand. “And mine alone.”

A chill ran down your spine. Was he really saying what you thought he was saying?

“I’m not a slave, Frank,” you said. “I am free to do this.”

“I do not intend to make you my slave,” he said. “I intend to make you my wife.”

Your body went rigid as the blood ran out of your face. The very idea made your stomach churn. The thought of being his wife, sharing his bed, bearing his children...you nearly heaved right there in front of him.

“No,” you said firmly. “I won’t.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” he said. 

“It’s sick!” you cried. “I’m your daughter!”

“ _ Step _ daughter,” he said. “I will have this estate, Y/N. You will do for me what your mother could not. My son will be the true and rightful heir, and start a new line.”

“Are you not happy with the children you have?” you wondered, completely rocked to your core. “Why do you insist on a son?”

“Sons are the only useful offspring,” he scoffed. “Daughters are just mouths to feed until you can marry them off, and even then, what’s theirs will never belong to their family. It belongs to their husbands. Well, I am not going to lose everything because my previous wives were too weak to give me what I want.”

“I will not,” you refused again. “I’ll run away.”

“And leave behind your home?” he taunted. “The one your father built so lovingly with your mother?”

“It will no longer be a home to me if I am trapped in such a marriage,” you said. 

“I’m not giving you a choice, Y/N,” he sighed. “I’ll keep eyes on you everywhere, I’ll lock you in your room, whatever it takes. Or, you can submit to me now and become mistress of this house as you were born to be.”

“I’ll die before I marry you,” you spat. “I’ll die before I bear any child of yours. I’ll -”

“No need to go on,” he said. He was being alarmingly calm about this. “I know the rest. But you will marry me, Y/N. You will have my son, and you’ll do it all without complaint. Just as you have with everything I have ever given you.”

You blinked again. So everything he’d put you through was a test? A way to manipulate you into obeying his every command? He was...grooming you? Your stomach gave another lurch.

“But first,” he said. “We will need to squash your dreams of Prince Gwilym.”

“What do you -”

He cut off your question by hurling your slipper into the wall. It shattered with a crash, which drowned out your anguished cry. You sank to your knees, hopeless. 

“There now,” he said. “I’m only teaching you the harsh lesson of reality.” 

Tears fell freely down your cheeks. You heard the loud knocking at the front door, but barely registered it. 

“That’ll be him,” Frank said. 

You snapped to your senses and started to rise for one last desperate escape attempt, but Frank was faster. You felt the blow of his palm against your cheek before you even saw it coming. You fell to the ground, face throbbing. You wanted to scream, or cry, or swing back at him, but you were completely numb from the shock. You couldn’t feel anything but the sting on your skin.

“Do not resist me again, Y/N,” Frank warned. 

With that, he walked out of your room, and you heard him turn the lock. You were trapped. You curled into a ball on your floor and wept quietly. 

***

Gwilym was relieved when the door finally opened. This was the last house of the day. He saw a man there, whose smile was...unconvincing to say the least. He bowed. 

“We are happy to see you, Prince Gwilym,” he said. “I am Frank Tarleton, and I believe one of my daughters is the girl you’re searching for.”

Gwilym raised a brow. “But you don’t know which?”

Frank blinked, taken aback, and then laughed an empty sort of laugh. “Good one, your highness. Please, come in.”

Gwilym looked at Ben and Rami who both shrugged. They followed Frank inside and into the drawing room, where two young women sat on the couch, looking nervous. Ben explained everything, with Frank nodding eagerly along. Something about the man struck Gwilym as slimy. He was too polite, too eager to please, and it seemed even his own daughters were made uncomfortable by him. Gwilym sighed. 

“Let’s get this over with,” he mumbled. 

He was beginning to lose hope. Who was left, if not these girls? And yet, neither of them struck him as the one he was looking for.

*******

You listened carefully at your door, not daring to make any more noise. If Frank returned, he might do worse than strike you. But you could listen to what was happening downstairs. 

It was a bit maddening to hear, though. To be so close to Gwilym now, and yet so far. To be a prisoner now in your own home was worse than being a servant. And the worst part was seeing the proof of your identity lying in pieces beside you. You felt like the slipper. Broken. Completely in pieces. Like your dreams too. 

You heard the front door open and close again. You went to your window and watched Gwilym mount his horse, his friends on either side of him, and trot away toward town. Was that truly the last time you would see your love?

It couldn’t be. Now, you could hear Frank’s familiar footsteps coming back up the stairs. You knew you had to make a break for it as soon as he opened the door. You braced yourself. You had no time to pack anything, no time to grab money or valuables. You would have to break away with nothing but the clothes on your back and a prayer. 

You watched the doorknob turn, feeling as if everything was in slow motion. It creaked slowly open and Frank’s body appeared in the doorframe. He reached for you, but you ducked under his arm, darted down the hall, flew down the stairs, and straight out the front door. 

You ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even daring to look back to see if Frank was in pursuit. You just hurtled toward town, hoping that anyone could help you. You would give up your home, and everything you knew - you would even give up your life - before marrying Frank. You had to escape, even if it meant becoming a beggar. 

You burst through the back door of the tavern, tears streaming down your cheeks, and chest heaving. Flying through the kitchen, you threw open the doors to the dining area and found Zelda behind the bar. She looked up at the commotion you were making, took in the sight of you, and her brow furrowed. 

“Zelda, please!” you cried, frantic. “I need help!”

You went to her, and she took you in her arms. 

“Y/N, what’s -”

She didn’t get to finish her question before Frank came barreling through. He must not have been far behind. You let out a scream. Zelda pushed you behind her and you cowered at her back. She put her arms out to shield you further. 

“Zelda, remove yourself if you know what’s good for you,” Frank threatened. 

“Don’t, Zelda, please!” you begged. “Don’t let him take me! He’s going to force me to marry him! Please!”

She stiffened in front of you. “Oh, no you don’t, Frank. I will not stand by and let you do this.”

“Stand back or you’re fired,” he warned. 

“I don’t care,” she shot back. “I won’t let you have her!”

“I’m afraid it’s not up to you,” he returned harshly. 

He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to move her, but Zelda was a stout woman with considerable strength. She resisted him, taking hold of his biceps and forcing him back several steps. Her advantage was clearly gained by the element of surprise. 

“Run, Y/N!” she cried. “Get out of here!” 

Panicked, you leapt over the counter and wrenched the door open. You threw yourself out of it, trying to ignore the sounds of the struggle behind you. You darted into the street and sprinted as fast as you could away from the tavern. You had no idea where you would go from here - but you could not stay and be forced into a lifetime of Frank. 

You glanced back. To your horror, you saw that Frank was emerging from the tavern and had spotted you right away. With a gasp, you turned back around and sped up. Only, as you turned, you didn’t realize what was in front of you. You ran right smack into a man’s back. The force of the collision put you on your rear in the dirt. 

Wincing, you looked up. Your jaw dropped. It was Gwilym!

He met your gaze and froze as well. For a moment, you were both back at the ball, when he’d come up to you on the stairs and asked you to dance. He recognized you instantly. 

“It’s you,” he whispered. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but a sudden stinging on your scalp caused you to cry out instead. Frank had fisted his hand around your hair and dragged you to your feet. 

“Your highness!” he gasped, noticing Gwilym. “I do apologize. My servant here has forgotten her manners.” He looked at you and continued through gritted teeth. “And her place.”

He yanked your hair on the last word for extra emphasis. Gwilym’s chest tightened as he watched Frank manhandle you. He briefly imagined himself drawing his sword and plunging it right into Frank’s chest, but he refrained. 

“Release her,” he ordered. 

Frank looked at the prince, bewildered. 

“I’m sorry?” he questioned.

Gwilym’s expression darkened. “I told you to release her.”

Frank hesitated. 

“Now!” Gwilym shouted. 

You relaxed when Frank finally let go. Your scalp still itched with soreness. You desperately wanted to throw yourself into Gwilym’s arms but you were still afraid of what Frank might do. You did take a cautious step back. 

“Your highness, I’m dealing with an unruly servant girl,” Frank said. “But she is mine and I may do with her as I please.”

Your lip trembled and you shook your head. 

“That’s not true,” you sobbed. “You know it’s not, I’m your step daughter and you’re forcing me to -”

“SILENCE!” Frank roared, and raised his hand.

You shrieked and covered your face with your arms. But the blow didn’t come. You peeked out, lowering your shield just barely. Gwilym had taken hold of Frank’s wrist. Rami and Ben, who you just noticed being present, both had their hands on their swords. Now was your chance. 

“Don’t let him take me back,” you begged again. “Please, your highness, don’t let him.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Zelda trotting up the street. She halted when she took in the scene before her. 

“Sir Tarleton,” Gwilym said, releasing Frank’s arm. “We were at your home and I asked you if you had any more women residing there besides your daughters. You lied.”

“It wasn’t a lie, really,” Frank argued. “Just an omission. You see, there’s no way this girl was at the ball when I forbid her from going.”

“If that’s true, then you are still in trouble,” Gwilym said. “All eligible maidens were to attend.”

“She’s only a servant -”

“I know you’re lying, Tarleton,” Gwilym interrupted. “Now stand down.”

Frank stepped away from the prince, shooting glances between him and you. Gwilym turned to Ben.

“The slipper please, Ben,” he said. 

“No!” Frank protested, starting toward you, but Rami stopped him.

Ben handed Gwilym the slipped you’d left behind on the staircase. You wiped your cheeks, clearing away the dirt and tears, and held your prince’s gaze. You smiled at him.

“I knew you were the girl from the tavern,” he said gently. “I knew I recognized you.”

“And the cemetery,” you reminded him.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “I remember.”

“How did someone like you even notice someone like me?” you wondered, amazed. 

“Because you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he told you simply. “Inside and out. And from that moment in the cemetery I saw what you truly are - a princess.”

You flushed, looking bashfully at the ground. 

“I’m not really a -”

“Maybe not by birth,” he said. “But in heart.”

You met his eyes again. Those eyes that from the first time you saw them, told you the kindness of this man’s soul. 

He knelt down onto one knee, holding out the slipper. It made you ache for the lost one Frank smashed, but you were relieved that you had left one behind at the palace. You toed off your boot and raised your leg. Ben stepped closer to help you balance and you shot him a grateful look. Then, you slid your delicate foot into the glass slipper. It fit perfectly. 

Gwilym’s face lit up like a firework. Ben let go of your hand as Gwilym laughed, took you up in his arms and spun you around. You giggled with joy as well. He lowered you gently to the ground.

“Now, will you at last tell me your name?” he asked. 

You chuckled. “It’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N,” he repeated, and cupped your cheek in his palm. “How beautiful.”

“No!” Frank shouted again, and this time Rami had to grab him to stop him. “No! You cannot take her from me!”

“The girl does not belong to you,” Gwilym said sternly. He turned and faced Frank. “I see very clearly now that you have been mistreating her. She is free to choose whatever she likes.”

“I’m her father!” Frank insisted. 

“ _ Step _ father,” you said. Then you looked up at Gwilym. “I choose you, my love.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied. “Sir Tarleton, you’ll be taken into custody.”

Frank’s eyes went wide as the guards moved to take him from Rami. They clapped iron rings around his wrists. He seemed too shocked to struggle. 

“Take him to the dungeon to await trial for his crimes,” Gwilym instructed. He faced you again. “And you, my darling, may come with me to the palace.”

“For how long?” you wondered. 

“Forever, if you wish it,” he assured you. 

“I could hardly wish for more,” you said happily. 

He took your hand and helped you onto his horse. Together, you headed for safety, and building a life together. In true love.

*******

You and Gwilym married as soon as possible. The whole kingdom was thrilled at the wedding. Frank was tried and convicted for his abuse, but would not serve a life sentence, so instead of prison, he was banished from the kingdom. Even so, early in your marriage to Gwilym, you frequently had nightmares where your stepfather returned. 

Gwilym was as loving and patient a partner as you could hope for. He let you talk through your trauma, and he made sure to never do anything that caused you fear. His support helped you to truly heal. 

Your step sisters had to move from the estate, which was now yours entirely. Eleanor and Miranda were surprisingly happy to take over their father’s first business, the tavern, which they ran successfully with Zelda. They both eventually found merchant husbands and lived peacefully, and you were genuinely happy for them. 

But the greatest joy Gwilym ever gave you was your children. You had two boys and two girls, and they were the light of the whole kingdom’s eye - but especially the king, who lived a long and healthy life with his grandchildren. You had no other description for your life besides happily ever after. 


End file.
